Amortenica

When Hermione entered the dungeon she saw it full of more vapors than ever. But before she could examine and classify each brewing potion she smelt something so incredible she felt like she could burst. It was alluring and complete seductive. She sat herself down directly in front of the potion just so she could try to distinguish its scent. It was consuming and filling her with its vivid aroma. She shook her head in attempt to clear it. The fog left long enough for her to deduce that the scent was made of perfectly crisp parchment, the smell of her lawn at home after her father mowed it on Sunday mornings, and something else. It was like a billion different scents in one. Then Ron plopped himself down into the chair next to her and she nearly gasped out loud. It felt as if she had been hit over the head with a brick. That was where she had smelt that scent before. It was so distinct and clear now that she felt silly for not placing it earlier.

First came his normal scent the one that was common when she walked down the hall next to him. It was manly, yet slightly sweet ('maybe from all the candy he eats' she thought fondly). Then his after-Quidditch smell flashed through her mind, invigorating her senses. It was strong, crisp from the harsh wind, and with a streak of musky sweat and yet it was a delicious aroma. Many others came after that each more desirable than the next.

Desire. She looked at the potion and saw strangely shaped spirals of vapor emitting from it. Amortencia. She recited its definition in her mind. What we desire. She knew she liked Ron as more than a friend, but to know that a potion made it perfectly clear that he's what she desired made it more palpable, reachable.

She answered Slughorn's questions mechanically, but when he asked about the one in front of her she was more than happy to tell the class about it. "It's Amortencia!"

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I supposed, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristics spirals," Hermione said enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what we desire, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and......"

Oh god. She clamped her mouth shut before she could get her mouth around the word "Ron". She blushed and reached for her quill and began writing gibberish to cover her near-slip up. She still couldn't believe it. She had almost said "Ron" and "desire" in the same sentence in front of Professor Slughorn, Harry, Malfoy, and most frightening of all----Ron himself.

The rest of the class went by in a blur, and she only half-heartedly goaded Harry about his potions book because if she had been focusing she would have been able to get a lot more information out of him. Hermione was completely focused on Ron. It seemed her senses were still keen on his scent even though she was walking about a foot behind him. She got closer and it once again consumed her. Then, as if the day couldn't have gotten stranger, when they were walking back to the Common Room Hermione could've sworn Ron was leaning especially close to her hair and making strange sniffing (or was it snorting) noises.

Ron's POV

Hmmmm...that potion with the swirly smoke smells really familiar. It's like broomstick polish, Mum cooking breakfast at the Burrow, and something else all-in-one. Did someone just say that it's supposed to smell like what we desire? Well that explains the 'Mum's cooking' part. But what is that other scent? Now that I think about it, it smells exactly like if someone mixed the smell of old parchment and rose shampoo.......Oh crap.